This wasn't the first time
by Pyrofan
Summary: Robin, a very disterbed child is telling her story to the police.


Hey guys sorry I haven't been around…this is a random story that I hope to actually get more into…there is no powers right now but you'll see them later.

pyrofan

Let me start out by saying this wasn't the first time. Well actually I have done it three times before. Let me tell you how everything began, how a horrible thing became my obsession.

It started out in the sixth grade. Sure there were a lot of people I liked and yeah a lot of people liked me. But there were also a lot more people I disliked. I couldn't stand my grade. I couldn't even stand any of the teachers who taught my grade. I hated them, that's all there is to it. My hatred for them left school and ended up coming home with me. I started getting into fights with my mother and sisters. Not just any fights, but ones that actually drew blood. As our fighting progressed and the years went on, one day I just got sick of it. My sister, Sarah, was screaming at me because I didn't help her clean up down stairs because I was doing the dishes. I was standing at the sink and I picked up a dirty kitchen knife and started to wash it. As Sarah screamed I just kept washing it until it was clean. Sarah was just saying how irresponsible I was when I twirled around holding the newly clean kitchen knife. "Why don't you shut your damned mouth before I make you." All Sarah did was stand there in shock. She couldn't believe that I, her little sister, would actually threaten her. I said, "It would be a pity to dirty up my newly cleaned knife."

Of course Sarah told our mom, and of course I got in trouble. I even had to start going to therapy because my family thought I was crazy. They wouldn't even let me into the kitchen, I had to ask permission to even get any food. I was tired of them they deserved everything they got. But that's later in my little story. You see my sisters and I all go to the same school, and Rachel, my younger sister, goes and tells all of these kids about my outburst. How do I know this you ask? Well I know this because a couple of those people actually had the nerve to come up to me and laugh at me for it. I mean seriously, I don't know about you officer but I wouldn't go up to a person who had just pulled a knife on her own sister and make fun of her. Stupid ignorant fools.

But yeah I got sick of them so the next one that came up to harass me, well I threw him down the stairs. "Whoops" That's what I said, well I thought it was funny. Well anyways no one was in the halls so it didn't make a scene. So I walked down the stairs where this nerd was withering in pain, and I knelt down beside him and I asked him, "Now do you think it was a good idea for you to even look in my general direction?" And with that question I put him out of his misery. How? Well its simple I snapped his neck. Of course I got away with it there was no one, anywhere. I simply walked away. Later they found him, during passing period, they figured he was skipping class and had accidentally fell down the stairs and broke his neck. Good enough excuse for me, I mean its not like I was going to complain about it.

Life went on pretty okay from there because the kids who Rachel told were too afraid that I had actually done what they thought I had done, that they wouldn't talk or even look in my direction. That was the best week of my like until one of those little brats came up to me and said, "I know what you did Robin."

I smiled and said, "If you know what I did, what did I do? Please inform me." He couldn't even say anything. He just stood there with this dumb expression on his face. When he finally said something, it was something to get under my skin of course. And on purpose too! Oh he definitely got what was coming to him. Its funny, how sharp a pencil can be. Sharp enough to stab through the jugular, and even stop any voice. This time though, it was obviously no an accident. Even if it was, two kids dead in a little over a week, now that's ridiculous. Of course I hid the body. I hid him in this old locker in the boiler room, I took out the pencil before hand though so not to be too suspicious. I mean of course they found him, about a month later, but they still found him. Rumor was he smelled hella bad but that's the staff's problem not mine right? I'm actually surprised that the staff kept the "problem" under wraps. The only reason I found out was because they called me in for "questioning". Yeah right more like accusations, they were just pressuring me into telling them. Like any murderer would just come out and say, "oh yeah I killed him, oh and that other kid who "fell" down the stairs and broke his neck, well he didn't fall, he was pushed. And he didn't break his neck on the way down, no I did that for him." Please why would you admit to something if you haven't been caught yet? They couldn't have known it was me. The body was to decayed and they could barely even tell it was a pencil that was shoved thought his neck. Oh well their loss I guess. But like I told you before, I had done this three times before.

My mom had me going to this damned psychiatrist and all he did was ask how I was feeling about things many, many different times, and I was sick and tired of him asking the same thing every single hour. So I told him, I said, "Doc I feel like hurting someone." And he asked if it was a person close to me. "Well kind of, I've only known this person for about two years, but I don't consider him my friend, more of an idiot actually. I actually kind of hate him." I told him. My doctor said that was perfectly normal and to tell him more about it, maybe even act out what I wanted to do to this individual. So what was I do officer? If your doctor, a trained person, told you to do something that might make you better, I acted it out. I grabbed a pair of scissors and walked over to him. "I would walk over to that individual and I would place my hand on their shoulder as I hid my other hand behind my back." I said while I placed my hand on his shoulder. He actually looked pretty startled and he even started to say something, but I cut him off, "And what I really want to do Doc. Is I want to plunge these scissors deep into his heart." And that was the last thing my poor psychiatrist ever heard. Still "acting" I ran out into the lobby screaming that my doctor had committed suicide. Some fellow employees went rushing into the room and indeed there was a pair of scissors sticking out of his chest and he was indeed holding the end of them. Even with my story the investigators labeled me as a suspect, but they just asked me a few questions and I was to "hysterical" to answer any of them that they just sent me home.

When I got home I did some chores and my mother came into the room. "Robin, I know what happened today." She told me quietly.

"And you think I did it! You always think I'm the one responsible for everything! The only reason I pulled the knife on Sarah was because she deserved it!" I had actually lost it then. I admit that. I was pointing the knife I had threatened Sarah with at my mother, and she was actually scared of me. I walked away from her for a moment and said right before I turned around, "Well, they always say mommy knows best." And with that I plunged the knife into my mother's stomach. That's when I actually felt something. I guess that's the first time I realized what I had done. But hey, I couldn't stop there could I? I mean my sisters had both come into the kitchen and were terrified of what they found. I couldn't let them live if they know what I had done right? So I knocked them out and put them in a closet. I doused the house in the extra gas that we always kept for emergency and lit a match.

I watched the house burn, I know I had a big smirk on my face when it all collapsed too. And that's when you guys showed up. From whoever gave you that helpful hint, I am now caught. I have no family left and I have no one to care. And I'm glad about that, but I am sad that there is no one left for me to hurt.


End file.
